


i hear the bells

by KiraYoshikage



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Gen, brief suicide allusion, someone please help makoto niijima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 03:24:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10778517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiraYoshikage/pseuds/KiraYoshikage
Summary: makoto niijima is useless. useless. useless. useless. useless.





	i hear the bells

**Author's Note:**

> makoto deserves better than sae niijima imo

"You're useless to us."

Makoto felt her heart stop as that word was thrown at her again for the second time in 24 hours.

Useless.

How could she be useless? She was the student council president. She had the most sway in the entirety of Shujin Academy.

...And yet, as she thought about it, she realized she hadn't contributed anything to anyone since she was first told to investigate the Phantom Thieves.

Sure, she _found_ the Phantom Thieves, but...what good had that done? Students were still getting attacked. Drained of money and energy by some leech by the name of Kaneshiro.

Moreover she certainly hadn't done anything to help Sae with her problems. Sae made that very clear last night. Too clear.

Makoto's head pounded, and it felt like her heart was hammering, but from somewhere deep inside her...like the cavity in her chest was growing inwards, leaving only a terrible black void in its wake. Useless. She was useless. Her existence was a burden to everyone around her.

_"Good-girl pushover."_

_"Useless."_

How could everyone say such horrible things to her? And why were they correct? Certainly there was something she could do, right? Right?

She opened one eye, suddenly becoming aware that she had closed them tight at some point. All of the delinquents in front of her were staring at her, eyebrows locked downwards in anger. Their gazes felt like fire on her skin, piercing through her clothes and carving painful words in the walls of that void.

They looked as though they expected her to speak. Had they said more? She wasn't sure. Their voices were distant, as though the cavity in her chest were expanding out of her as well, enveloping all her senses in thick cotton. Not silent, but very muted.

Useless. They need her to do something. They just needed to find Kaneshiro. Makoto needed to be helpful to someone. Anyone. Even if those someones were the troublemakers she had been tailing for weeks.

"Fine," Makoto said, her voice croaking out. "You need to find Kaneshiro, right? I'll find him."

"What?" Takamaki said. "You? How?"

Makoto said nothing. She just turned around and left. She didn't have a plan, not really. But if these Phantom Thieves were the real deal, they would know how to follow her up.

Her body moved as if on auto-pilot while her mind continued to wrap around the wounds their words had seared into her flesh. Useless. Useless, useless, _useless...!_

To her surprise, by the time she had reached Central Street, the blank void in her chest had begun to fill. A single spark had lit in her heart, and wound a snaking, burning trail all around itself, coiling and uncoiling rapidly like a fat worm pulled from the earth. The trail was wreathed in flame; a flame hotter than she had ever known it before. An anger that carved deep canyons in her heart. 

Makoto was not unfamiliar with this rage. It had accompanied her all her life, and especially seemed to be always lurking in her shadow since her dad passed away. But she had never let it in. Not once. She was a good girl and did as she was told. But now, it had finally pierced her-- or perhaps she let it pierce her this time.

There, in the alleyway. Two thugs. Clearly mafia, or at least they would know where to find the mafia.

"Hello. You there," Makoto said, marching up to the two. "You work for Kaneshiro. Take me to him."

"Uhh, what?" said one of the thugs. "You crazy or somethin'?"

"Or something," Makoto muttered to herself before continuing. "I have valuable information for him. Take me to where he is."

"Ehh...fine, whatever, if you wanna die."

After a few minutes, a limo arrived and Makoto was roughly forced in. Before the door closed she could've sworn she heard her name being called out by someone. Maybe it was the Phantom Thieves, but maybe also she was imagining things. Wishing someone actually did care about her despite her inability to help.

But, that was impossible. She hadn't done anything yet. Now, Makoto figured that the only options available were to provide something-- _anything--_ or die trying.

\------

A short drive later and she was standing in front of an obese man in a shady bar, sitting at a table covered in bottles of liquor, smoked cigarettes, and unlabelled tabs of...some sort of medicine. Probably not medicine in that case.

"And...who is this, exactly?" the obese man asked the thugs, gesturing at Makoto.

"Dunno," one said. "She just said she had valuable info for ya, Mr. Kaneshiro."

"Don't use my name in front of strangers, you dumbshits," Kaneshiro growled. "And are you telling me you brought some high schooler to me just because she said she had info? Are you that fucking brainless?"

"Wh-- she's a high schooler?" asked the other thug. "How'd you know?"

" _She's wearing a Shujin Academy uniform!_ Are you telling me you didn't recognize that?! Who have you been hunting down for the past month?!"

Makoto hadn't said a word yet; frankly, she wasn't even really listening to their bickering. Her eyes were trained at one conspicuous item on the table: an absolutely massive revolver, probably a .44. Just like the one she had seen in that film Filthy Harold.

A quick series of images flashed through her head-- Kaneshiro grabbing the gun on the table. Pointing it at her. A trigger pull; a loud bang; her brains painting the walls. Kaneshiro could and would do that. He could do whatever he wanted.

She thought of Sae, at a funeral for her. Sae would shed no tears. She'd only scowl, furious that Makoto would do the exact thing their father had done to get himself killed. Her lips move, forming the word "...burden." But, what Makoto heard was...

"Hey. Are you listening to me?" Kaneshiro asked, making Makoto's gaze snap back up to him. As they made eye contact, Makoto felt the coil of fury in her chest continuing to grow. She realized that she did not fear the magnum on the table. If she were honest, a not-insignificant part of her wished that he would go for the gun and finish the thing here. After all, if she were useless, what real point was there to continue forward?

At the moment, Makoto could only think of one reason.

"Bitch, I asked you a question."

_Spite._

"You think I give a shit?" Makoto said, the stagnant venom inside her spraying out. "I'm the goddamn student council president and I will see to it that you stop harassing my fellow students."

"What did you say to him?!" one of the thugs yelled. He pushed Makoto to the ground, grabbing her wrists and locking her arms behind her.

"Oh _my,_ well, fuck me _running,_ " Kaneshiro said languidly. "The student council president. Whatever will I _do?_ "

Makoto growled into the carpet, wrestling against the hands holding her down. When Makoto heard the Phantom Thieves bust in through the door she did not feel surprised. All she could think about was how futile it was to try and escape.

How useless it was to fight those in power over her.

How useless she was.

This was how it always went. No matter how much she stoked the flames of her anger, she could never stand to 

\----

_Fight back._

The shadow Kaneshiro was laughing at her and all the other Phantom Thieves. While her mind had briefly cooled down while learning about the cognitive world, seeing the purple-skinned demon laughing at her from behind his pencil mustache made her heart strike the spark of rage once again.

This time, the passionate fire inside did not bother to slowly wind its way around her. Instead, it was like lighting a match in a room with a gas leak: suddenly, the empty, gnawing abyss inside of her was full to bursting with hot emotion. And alongside that was something new: a voice. Gentle, soothing, and patient.

_Makoto Niijima. Have you finally decided to walk the path of strife?_

Makoto's skin burned. Her fingertips buzzed as though lightning were pouring out of them. She looked again at Kaneshiro, but suddenly found her eyes unable to focus on him. His shape and form kept changing. In one moment, he looked like Sae...in another, Goro Akechi...in yet another, her own father.

In the end, the form didn't matter. All that mattered was fighting it. She couldn't bear to step back in line now. The only way out was forward.

"Yes. _Come to me._ "

_Very well. Let us proceed with the contract._

As the voice paused, the fire inside began pushing out. Makoto's skin and eyes felt like they were stretching outward under the strain, and it took everything she had to stay on her feet.

_I am thou. Thou art I._

_You have finally found your own justice._

_Please. Never lose sight of it again._

"I won't," Makoto thought. She tripped backwards, almost losing her balance, but instead she powered herself forward. In doing so she brought her foot down hard enough to crack the pristine tile underneath her; in the fake Kaneshiro's eyes, there was fear. Fear of Johanna. Fear of Makoto. And while this Kaneshiro was indeed just a fake, it did not diminish the beautiful ecstasy of that fear lingering on her tongue.

Makoto, feeling a sudden weight on her face, moved her hands to her eyes and found a smooth steel mask there. She grasped it and began to pull on it hard, ripping through the skin the border was attached to. Warm blood seeped through her fingers and spattered on the ground. As she tore it free, she screamed aloud, lost in the righteous blue fires finally escaping her body after years of restraint.

Makoto looked down and saw a glowing motorcycle beneath her, that same blue fire pouring out of the exhaust pipes on the sides. She grasped the throttle and revved the engine. The handle felt comfortable in her hand, but she was still squeezing it hard enough to leave her knuckles white and tense.

She thought of Sae and the cruel words that she had thrown out so carelessly. She thought of Goro Akechi, a boy her own age, calling her a pushover. But, like everything else, those thoughts evaporated in the heat radiating off of Johanna. Everyone would have to see she was useful now. They simply would not be able to deny it. Not only this, but a new feeling started to blossom in her chest; it felt like pride. Ecstasy. Fear. All swirling and pouring out of her body and into Johanna. Makoto realized that, for the first time, she was proud of herself. All at once this thought of herself seemed more important than anything-- or anyone. An ironclad determination allowed her to meet Kaneshiro's eyes once more, and she spoke.

"I will never lose heart again. Ever."


End file.
